Salvaged - Page 62/81

With that, I tugged her hand until she followed me up the steps and into the vast, chilly darkness of the garage. I took a minute to hit the lights and to crank up the heat. I guided her through the different bays until we reached the back of the garage, where the Hudson was sitting on a lowered rack. The car had just come back from painting, so it was now a perfect pale blue, the convertible top a rich cream color that matched the pinstriping that swirled over the curves of the hood and along the rounded fenders. It was hands down one of the prettiest and most memorable cars I had ever worked on. It was a true classic and I knew in my gut that the closer I got to finishing the restoration, the harder it was going to be for me to let it go.

“The paint is the same color as your eyes.” She trailed the tips of her fingers over the rise in the hood and looked at me with a wide smile. “It turned out beautiful.” I’d been unable to keep my excitement about this car to myself. She now knew more about struts and shocks, torque and transmissions, than she probably ever wanted to know.

“I’m glad you like it … because it’s yours. At least it will be as soon as I get the rest of the motor reworked. So by the time the snow melts, it will be yours.” I crossed my arms over my chest as she whirled around and gaped at me with wide eyes. She snatched her hand away from the cool metal of the hood and jumped away from the car like it had suddenly shocked her.

“No. I can’t take this car, Wheeler. Thank you for offering, but no.” She shook her head and her words were firm.

I sighed because I knew that was what she was going to say and I really wanted to get to the part where I bent her over the hood and sank into her sweet heat from behind without having an argument first.

“Poppy, that Camry is a fine car but it isn’t you. It’s boring and basic. You should be driving something that is unforgettable and special, just like you are.” I walked over to her, put my hands on her shoulders, and waited until she tilted her back to look at me. “I bought the car and started building it knowing I wasn’t going to let it go. I built it for you. I want to give you unforgettable and special.”

She lifted her hands and curled her fingers around my wrists. “You gave me unforgettable and special the first time you kissed me.”

I blew out a breath and moved in so I could lower my forehead until it touched hers. “Poppy, this is my dream car, my one in a million. It was the one I would do anything to get my hands on, the one I would spare no expense to repair and return to its rightful glory. This car has every single piece of me in it—my heart, my soul, my greatest passion, every iota of skill and knowledge I’ve learned over the years. This car is me, do you understand?”

Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, making her look like an adorable fish. Her eyes blinked a couple of times and finally she drew in a shuddering breath. “You’re giving me you.”

I nodded slowly and shifted my hands so that I was cupping her jaw. “I love you, honey, but more than that I love the way you love me. I’ve never had that, never understood what it truly means to be cared for, so I’m giving you me because I know you will take care of me, treasure me, and that you will never, ever let me fall apart. Both Hudsons need someone like that to keep them running.” I touched my lips to hers and whispered against her lips, “Give me a good home, honey, please.”

She wavered for half a second before quietly acquiescing. She smiled against my mouth and her hands ran up the outside of my arms so that she could wind them around my neck. “It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever given me, Wheeler.” I knew she didn’t mean the car. “I’ll make sure you are both well loved and properly cared for until my last breath.” She kissed me long and slow, her tongue twisting with mine until it was hard to breathe and even harder to think straight since there was no longer any blood circulating in my brain. All of it had rushed below my belt and was making my cock dig painfully into the teeth of my zipper. “I love you too, Hudson. Real love, the kind that feels right, the kind that is healthy and strong, the kind that is scary in a good way.”

Hearing her tell me that she loved me had that lonely wolf that was always feasting on my insides finally howling in victory that it had found its mate. There would be no more loneliness, no more sense of being unwanted and invisible. Everyone else had thrown me away; she picked me up and promised to always have a place for me. It had every animalistic, primal instinct inside of me roaring to life with the need to mate, claim, mark. She was mine for the taking from here until forever and that’s what I wanted to do … take and take and take some more.

I walked her backward into the front end of the car. She gasped when her backside hit the metal and I took full advantage of her open mouth. I dipped my tongue into the wet heat and slicked it across her teeth. I stroked it against her tongue and used the tip to trace the perfect bow that shaped her top lip. I used my teeth on her bottom lip and swallowed every breathy sigh she let escape. She yelped when I lifted her up by her waist and set her on the hood. Typically, I would have an aneurysm if anyone got that close to a new paint job with rough denim, snaps, and zippers, but I knew she wasn’t going to be dressed for very long and her skin was velvety smooth.

I worked my hands to the front of her tight-fitted flannel shirt and started popping annoying little buttons through the holes. She watched me with patient eyes as she reached out and ran her finger over the candle that inked across my throat. “It’s a light so you can always find your way home, isn’t it?”

I started on her jeans, cautioning her not to slide across the paint as she lifted herself up with her hands on my shoulders so I could work the denim off her hips and down her legs. I liked her naked. I liked her naked and spread out on the hood of the car that I’d built just for her even more. It was like every dirty dream I’d had about those girls in hot-rod magazines when I was younger come to life.

“It worked. Took longer than I would have liked and there were some wrong turns that were a real fucking headache, but I found home and it is definitely where my heart is.” I put my hand flat on the center of her chest and gave her a gentle push backward so that she would lie down on the blue metal. Her hair spread out all around her head like spilled honey and her eyes went liquid and warm like spiced cider. I smoothed my hand along her breastbone, down over her stomach, and stopped to tickle her belly button. She let out a giggle that sounded so carefree and unburdened that I knew if I screwed up everything else in my life, I would always have that giggle as something I got really, really right. I slipped my thumb along the top of her pussy, feeling her quiver and watching as her legs stiffened. I put a hand on her knee and roughly ordered, “Put your foot up on the bumper.” It was chrome and I was going to have to buff the shit out of it before the guys showed up for work tomorrow, but again I didn’t care.